Date Needed
by Pixie-Tinks83
Summary: When you have a week to find a date for your parents 30th wedding anniversary, it's amazing the lengths you'll go to to find one. Can a simple white lie change your life forever? Only time will tell. Canon pairing. AH
1. Teaser

So, guess who's back with something new =o)

Enjoy the opener, I hope it's enough to leave you wanting more.

Thanks to xMissCullenx for picking up beta duties again for me.

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Moving to a big, foreign city with little more than the clothes on my back and the few dollar bills I happened to have in my back pocket, wasn't exactly my best idea, I have to admit. Especially not a great idea when I have nowhere to stay, nobody to call a friend, or a job to bring in a few extra bucks to make the whole experience a little more pleasurable or durable, even.

After many 'you just don't have the qualifications we're looking for' speeches I decide to listen to the one sentence going over and over in my mind; the one remark that didn't comment on my qualifications, or should that be, the lack of them.

"Use your looks honey; it's the only way you're going to make a quick buck around here without having anything between your ears."

I should have been pissed that they'd presumed I have no brain just because I didn't have the patience to graduate from high school. Instead I chose to listen to the positive, and why not? After all, very few people could use their looks to make some cash. That's how I found myself in the public library flicking thorough the Google pages offering me instant information of all the escort agencies in the local area.

I click on one of the classier looking pages, and trust me, there are few and far between of those around and find the address. Scribbling it down on the wrinkled napkin I find in my oversized and overfilled bag, I bundle up my jacket and head in, what I hope is, the right direction of not only my one shot at making some quick money, but what may give me the chance to create a future where nobody knows me.

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If you liked, you know what to do, chapter one shall be up in a couple of days if people seem interested x


	2. Desperation makes you do crazy things

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**Thanks for the reviews saying you were intrigued guys, you give a girl a reason to carry on doing something she loves.**

**Thanks to my beta - who works her magic on this - xMissCullenx **

I don't own the characters, Ms Meyer does, I do, however, own the plot.

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So, here I'm sat, pawing through the online pages of what can only be described as my last hope at fooling my parents. The whole idea had come to me, well us - meaning my friends and I - as we sat around a table in our favourite plush bar. I was preoccupied and was zoning in and out of the idle chatter that was buzzing through the air, sipping on drinks, the heavy liquor burning the back of my throat as the warm fluid slid down swiftly.

"Hello, are you even listening to me?" I heard Edward ask as he waved his hand in front of me, and what can only be described as, vacant eyes. "You're not on this planet tonight are you?"

"Sorry, lot going on up here." I replied half heartedly as I tapped the side of my head.

"Please tell me you're not stressing about meeting with your parents still?" Rosalie asked, looking at her nails in distain at my current predicament. "Just go out and pick up some hotty. Easy."

"If it was that easy I would have done it already." I grumbled.

"I still don't understand why you told them you'd been dating someone for a year."

"Emmett, you know my parents. I'm twenty eight, as far as they're concerned I should already be married, have two kids, a dog and a house in the Hamptons. They don't understand that it isn't the be all and end all not to be settled by thirty anymore." I answered with a huff.

"And," I stopped for added dramatics, "You know if I didn't say I was with someone, they'd be setting me up with one of their friends unattached, thirty something children, who are too undesirable to have found someone already." I continued with a scrunch of the nose, remembering all too fondly the kind of person I'd be settling with, should I actually ever let it become a reality. "No, I just can't do it."

"You could always just hire a date." Bella suggested with a shrug of her shoulders, "You know, like an escort. You pay them to be who you want them to be for a night."

"Bella, my dear, you may have just saved my life." I said, bringing her temple to my lips as I walked past excusing myself in the direction of the restroom.

I'm not close to my parents, not by a long shot. Being completely honest, they're more just people I share blood with that I see once, maybe twice a year. That is, if they're not sunning it up on some Caribbean cruise when everyone else in the universe is spending the day with their loved ones. I don't mean that to sound bitter, quite the opposite. This works for me, I'm happy to spend my Christmases, New Years and Thanksgivings with Edward, Bella, Emmett and Rosalie. They might not be the family I was born to, but inherited along the way over the last sixteen years, and I'd pick them to spend time with over my parents any day of the year.

Edward was the first one I met, he probably felt sorry for the new kid in the posh private boarding school upstate. He was all wild red hair, too long legs - which luckily he grew into as soon as puberty hit - and manners of a saint. He'd stopped me walking into the wrong locker room as I tried to navigate myself around the endless corridors and walk ways of the extensive school grounds.

I soon came to realise he didn't fit in and neither did I. That's the understatement of the century; I've never really fitted in anywhere. I'm pretty sure that's why my parents felt the need to send me to a boarding school; it was an easy fix for them to have one less awkward inconvenience they had to deal with for long amounts of time.

I'd been to numerous child therapists, doctors and all that jazz, in hope of finding out why I wasn't like other kids my age. See, I could listen to a piano melody just once and play it back to you perfectly within seconds. I could read a chapter of a classic novel and recite back, in detail, everything that had happened. Photographic memory they officially called it, 'gifted' to those who taught me. To my parents I was just bizarre; the child genius that wouldn't ever amount to anything in their eyes. Intelligent wasn't on their radar. Where you were placed in society was what mattered to them, and being "special" didn't help at all where that was concerned, apparently. Go figure.

I'd learnt to dumb it down over the years after it became apparent that my intelligence wasn't appealing to the opposite sex, or to anyone, period. Nobody wanted someone with my brains; it just wasn't acceptable in circles in which I'd become associated with. Some found it a put off that I knew more than they did, others just felt intimidated. That's when I decided to cut ties with my parents and their friends as much as possible. It made life so much easier, and I guess both my parents and I were happier that way.

Anyway, I digress; I guess that's why I found it so easy to be friends with Edward. He was just as intelligent, if not more so than myself. He'd always finished top of our class, with me close behind. Where my parents wanted to hide my intelligence, Edward's parents embraced it, encouraged him and let him flourish.

He'd decided way back then that he wanted to be a doctor, to follow in the footsteps of his father. I honestly thought that once we'd left school and went our separate ways, our meeting would come and far and in between and I'd be on my own again. But he'd been true to his word and we'd stayed good friends. And, at least once a week we'd email each other with an update on what we'd been up to, even when our lives were hectic and workloads took over making our lives pretty much living hell.

It was in one of these emails that he explained that he'd meet a wonderful girl, Bella. She was a sweetheart when I first meet her and still is to this day. She's just a normal, down to earth, girl next door who wears her heart on her sleeve. She'd literally stumbled into Edward on the street, fallen and sprained her wrist. He walked her back to her apartment, strapped her wrist up and left with her number and a date the following night. They've been inseparable ever since. A modern day fairytale with that happy ever after, doesn't it make you sick? No, not really, it's kind of sweet if that's what you're hoping for in life. Which despite my parents concerns about me getting on, – even though I'm only twenty eight, for God's sake – I wasn't quite sure what exactly I wanted where love was concerned.

Then of course there is Emmett, Edwards' older cousin and the artistic one of the group. Well I say artistic, throw in the vision to design the biggest and most beautiful buildings in Manhattan and you have our Em. Esme, Edward's mom says that she always knew he'd be involved with building design somewhere in his future when she'd seen him play with Lego as a child. Em works for this big company that gave its new apartments to a realtor to sell on their behalf, and that's where Rosalie showed up.

She'd come to collect the paperwork and floor plans for each of the floors they'd be marketing. Emmett had been summoned to bring his plans for her and well, to say the big oaf didn't know what to say to the tall, blonde bombshell that had knocked him off his feet without even uttering a word would be an understatement. Turns out Rosalie had a cold exterior towards anyone she didn't know and took the plans without so much as a thank you and turned on her heels with a swish of her blonde hair. Em came up with some of the most random reasons to contact her over the next couple of weeks by email where, from what I gather, they had a little bit of a flirting thing going on. She never lets him forget that it took her to email him one afternoon simply putting in the subject box, 'grow a pair and ask me out already' for him to get the hint that she liked him, the rest, as they say, is history.

This then brings me to me I guess. As I mentioned earlier, I was the child genius with parents who were too scared to embrace my 'natural abilities'. I left school and headed straight for Law School. It seems having a photographic memory helps when you're trying to remember case studies, which as I found out soon into my studies was a regular occurrence. I found my feet during my gap year, securing a work placement when I graduated, so, I was lucky enough to walk straight out of Law School into a well paid job.

The only downside I found was that I was so into doing the best I could to impress my boss and keeping my grades high that I had no 'me' time. I spent much of my time with my nose in a book or researching, trying to absorb as much as I possibly could. This didn't change when work started, and to this day it still hasn't. Hence why, when my parents demanded to meet the imaginary person I'd said I'd spent the last year of my life with, to be blunt; I panicked.

Really, how do you go about finding someone in a week to be your date to your parents' 30th wedding anniversary, let alone find someone who is willing to lie and say you've been dating for over a year and that you're madly in love? Maybe panicked was a bit of an understatement.

Now you understand my situation, and hopefully why I'm sat at my desk, during my lunch break, browsing a website I never imagined existed other than in bad movies, feeling slightly sick to my stomach at the thought of making the dreaded phone call.

"Volturi Associates. " The nasally voice said in a strained European accent.

"Hi, I'm wondering if you can help. I'm looking for a date, or escort, or whatever they're meant to be called these days for Saturday 30th July please?"

"Certainly, if I could just take a few details we'll be able to let you know if there is anyone available for you. Could take your name please?"

Do you actually give your real name in these circumstances?

"All details are kept confidential," She continued when I didn't immediately provide her with information she'd asked for.

"Oh right, of course. My name? Why, yes. It's Alice Brandon."

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**Thanks for reading.**

**Oh and for those that followed Serendipity, it's back. Well, it will be next week. Hope you pick up where we left.**

**Much love Pixie_Tinks x**


	3. When you have nothing to lose

**Disclaimer: Ms Meyer owns the characters, I own the plot, yada yada yada.**

****DW****

**Jasper**

Burying my Pop was the hardest and most draining experience of my life. He'd been ill for 10 years and I'd spent every minute of every day for the last decade taking care of him. At first it worked around my school life, I'd study, come home, make his dinner, study some more then do the housework. Whilst other guys my age were checking out girls, I was checking out groceries to keep food in the fridge. It was stressful and most nights before I turned in for a few hours of rest, I'd look up and ask God why it had happened to us. When he'd taken a turn for the worse, making schooling and taking care of him impossible, I just left school, there was no way I was putting him into care. It just wasn't an option in my mind. He'd taken care of me, on his own, without batting an eyelid, and now it was my turn. It had always been just us, hence why once he'd been buried I packed up and left. I didn't want the constant reminder of what had happened and more importantly, what I'd lost.

As the years had progressed his health declined, one illness after another causing my once strong father to become brittle, broken and fragile. It broke my heart, yet I couldn't find it in me to let go, even when he'd told me that I was to put him in a home, to 'free me of the burden'. The difference was, he _never_ was a burden, he was my own flesh and blood, he was my father, end of story. The nurses that had helped towards the end of his life had said they'd been proud of the way I'd taken care of him, that by keeping him at home he'd managed to live for longer, that he'd been able to pass somewhere that meant something to him.

I questioned myself on a daily basis after hearing those comments as to whether I'd caused him more pain by keeping him at my side, and vowed that when I met him at the pearly gates, where I was sure he'd be waiting for me, I'd ask him if I let him down. Was my own greed the reasoning for his unnecessary pain? It was something I'd have to live with for the rest of my life.

Once he'd passed, I sold the house, and all the possessions inside, well, what very little was left. I'd been selling things as the years passed to pay for medicine and pain relief to try and make him as comfortable as humanly possible. After I'd paid off final bills, outstanding medical fees and for his funeral there was just above a thousand bucks; just enough for me to get as far away from there as possible and feed myself for a week or so. I'd gone to the airport and asked for the cheapest next available flight, and that's how I'd ended up in New York.

I made a quick stop at the out of town motel room I'd managed to book myself into for a week, hoping I'd be able to freshen up before I lost the courage to go through with it. I splashed my face, combed through my hair and changed into the only pair of dress pants and wrinkle free button up shirt I'd brought with me. Checking myself in the mirror, not recognising the gaunt face looking back at me, I'd come to realise that it wasn't just my Pop I'd lost, I'd lost myself too. Not giving myself time to dwell on things I couldn't change I rolled my sleeves up to my elbows and headed for the subway.

As always, the subway was full of people for all different walks of life. I took my time to look at the people around me, trying to guess what they did for a living, if they were married and where they were heading. Of course this was just to pass the time mainly but also because it gave me something to think about other than what I was going to do with myself. I'd not been used to so much free time for a very long time that I'd become lonely almost immediately. I craved the attention of someone to talk to more than anything, towards the end Pop didn't talk so much but I'd taken to reading the newspaper out loud. He'd smile or frown at the news and fall to sleep much before we got half way through. I guess I was a stickler for routine, and now I didn't have one.

The well dressed guy sat opposite me with the shabby brief case gave me the impression he wanted to be respected at his work place, yet probably had a menial job, if he was as important as he dressed then surely the briefcase would be gleaming polished leather? Though on second glance the initials inscribed on the lock told me that maybe it had more sentimental value than I'd given him credit for. I pondered the idea that maybe a loved one had given him it as a present many years ago and he'd not had the inclination, want or need to replace it. This made my mind up and I settled with the realisation that it didn't matter what this guy did, he clearly had someone at home that loved him. The thought made my breath catch in my throat and I tugged at the collar of my shirt, hoping to allow in a little more air. I had neither, no home to call my own, nor a loved one.

The on board speaker announced we'd be arriving at the station I needed and I stood, brushing down my pants before exiting the double sliding doors. Following the other passengers, much like lambs to the slaughter, in single file, up the stairs, through the turnstiles and out into the air. I took a big gulp and tried to clear the restrictive feeling in my chest.

It took very few minutes to find the place I was looking for. Clean and shiny glass with gold lettering spelling out 'Aro Associates' across the window in an arch, black polished wood work below, nestled between a dry cleaners and pawn brokers. Not quite ready to sell my soul to the devil I entered the diner on the opposite side of the road, taking the table at the far end of the place, far enough to gain the courage to go back and enter the unknown yet close enough to see through the window and watch for people entering. I was hoping someone would at least enter or exit so I could get an idea of the kind of person this place dealt with.

The older lady with the rosy red cheeks and food covered apron approached me with a smile, pen and pad in hand.

"What'll it be?" She asked simply.

"Coffee please, with a little cream." I replied with a smile.

"Coming right up."

I sat watching through the window, catching the passers by strolling without a care in the world, some on cells, some talking animatedly to friends and others just enjoying the New York sunshine. The waitress returned with my coffee and slid a piece of apple pie in front of me; when I protested that I'd not ordered it, she told me it was on the house as she was a sucker for a happy smile. She'd turned and left before I could thank her for her generosity.

Once I'd drunk the coffee and eaten the pie I asked for my bill, remembering to leave her a tip for her kindness and bid her a good day. I knew what I had to do next, yet it didn't make it any easier. I'd not seen anyone come or go at all in the 30 minutes I'd been sat watching. This wasn't a great start. I checked both ways before crossing the road and headed straight for the entrance.

"Aro Associates." The lady said into the headset she was wearing. She lifted one immaculately painted nail in my direction, indicating I was to wait to be spoken to whilst she finished talking. I took a seat by the window and waited as patiently as I could, all the while my knee bouncing.

"Of course, I'll have a look at an opening now Ms Denali and come straight back to you."

A few hums, a tap of her nails on the glass desk followed by some tapping on her keyboard she turned and addressed me.

"Aro Associates. How can I help?" She asked.

"I was wondering if you were recruiting?" I questioned.

Is that what you called it? I had no idea how I was supposed to ask about this kind of thing. She looked me up and down, mentally assessing me I presume before speaking.

"We're _always_ looking for new employees to fulfil our clients' needs. We pride ourselves on being able to offer our clients whatever they're looking for. Now, if you could fill in the following forms for me I'll be able to print you off our terms and conditions."

She handed me a clipboard and what seemed like 100 A4 sheets of questions and shooed me towards the chair I'd just come from. I was asked to declare my name, date of birth, height, weight, hair colour and every other detail about my body they could think of asking me. The last page was the most unexpected as it went on to list the different kind of 'consignment' as they'd politely called it, I'd be willing to partake in. I handed it back and she pulled out a digital camera from her desk.

"Head shot." She stated.

I stood and smiled as directed and tried to relax a little. It hadn't been as sleazy as I'd presumed it would be in there, though truth be known, I hadn't known what to expect.

"Now, if you'd like to read over our terms and conditions and sign at the bottom. Feel free to take them away and return them if you're happy, though, be aware, the sooner you do, the sooner we can get you working. We are the highest class agency you'll find you know? We have clients from all over the world that will treat you like royalty."

I laughed internally at the cue card speech she'd rolled off. All I wanted to do was earn a few extra bucks to keep me going whilst I figured out what I wanted to do with my life and how I was going to actually be able to set the wheels in place. I started reading through the terms and conditions as she read through my forms. Realising I had nothing to lose, I signed without reading every single clause. She photocopied the copy I'd signed and returned a set to me.

"How are you set for the next few months? Do you have any prior engagements? We had a call earlier from a young lady looking for a 20 something tall blonde." She asked nonchalantly with a flick of the hair.

"I have absolutely nothing planned for the foreseeable future." I answered, surprised at how quickly things were happening today.

"Great! We work on a set fee in return for an evening with you; you'll meet your guest for the evening at a designated time and place of her choice. She'll pay us before hand; you'll then get 75% paid into your account or via a cheque the following morning. We take 25% from all employees; of course all of this is in the small print you just read." She said with a smirk when seeing me raise my eyebrow at the huge percentage they'd be taking.

"May I ask what the set fee is?"

"Of course, it's £300 dollars for the first 4 hours, additional hours are paid per the quarter hour. The fee structure is in the small print. Did you actually read this before signing?" She laughed.

"When you have very little to lose Miss, you find you take chances when you wouldn't usually." I shrugged, folding my copy of the terms and conditions in half and placing them in my back pocket. "How will I know who and where to meet her?"

"We'll set you up an account on our books, give me a day or so to do this, then sign into the website under this email address and this password," She continued as she filled in the blanks on the sheet in front of her. "It'll be where you can keep your diary of appointments. Any problems give me a call on the above number and I'll be happy to help."

I took the paper from her as she held it out in my direction, the smile still on her face and told me to have a good day. I took that as my indication to leave and thanked her for her help.

It had clearly been a lot less daunting that I'd expected and she'd been pleasant enough, maybe it wasn't going to be as bad as I expected, and realistically how bad can an evening be with someone you don't know?

For 225 bucks, I was willing to give anything a try.

Well maybe not _anything_.

****DN****

**Thanks for reading, as always, I'd love to hear what you think **

**Tinks x**


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